I have seen a lot of airports. Some are like Indy’s–clean, friendly, and with a USO that is super-clean and staffed with friendly volunteers. Other airports are, well, fertile grounds for significant improvement.

When I landed recently, I went to the USO to grab some water and a bag of pretzels while I waited for my ruck to appear at baggage claim. Two ladies at the counter had me sign in, show my military ID, and I was good to go.

I sipped on the water, munched some pretzels, and perused the walls. It was again encouraging to see patches I’ve worn myself or still wear. The years have gone quickly, at least upon reflection. For non-military folks, these patches may not resonate with you. But for military folks, they often come to mean a great deal. They serve as visual reminders of guys with whom you served or still serve, of countries you’ve been in, of combat theaters of operation, of permanent duty stations, of temporary duty stations, of guys who did not return the way they left, or of a nation that is different than the one we left, and on and on.

When I looked at the rifle, I reflected upon my days in KY, with some great guys there, and remembered a chaplain that came to mean a great deal to me, and of my seminary years when I worked more than was healthy and slept aImost none at all, and of a few professors who were the real deal.

When I look at the boar’s head, and at 48th’s lightning bolt, and at 3ID, I think of my home state and how I’ve been blessed to serve alongside so many great guys, and of the opportunities I’ve had, and of many, many sweaty days and nights around the globe.

3 Corps will always have a special place in my affections because of Afghanistan and my time there, and some great memories of God gripping people.

The “Big Red One” was my first patch, and brings back countless memories of times with buddies in Germany, Switzerland, England, Hungary, Italy, Czechoslovakia, Austria, deploying to Bosnia as a young soldier, and being shaped by amazing NCOs like SSG F. Reynolds and skiing the Alps with my buds from Vilseck, Germany.

If I had stayed longer in the USO, I would have found other patches I have worn, patches from Iraq or from the 201st, but I had to grab my ruck from baggage claim and continue my next leg of the trip.

I remain grateful for this ministry and this calling. Salute.